suppose she thinks giving him a guitar will make everything OK.’
‘Look, I need to tell you something,’ I said. ‘It’s not just any guitar. It’s signed by Joe Strummer.’
He stared at me as if he thought I was having him on for a moment. His jaw set with the realization that I wasn’t.
‘It’s signed “To Josh”,’ I continued, sitting down at the kitchen table.
He frowned again. It clearly didn’t fit with the scenario he had in his head.
‘It must have been within a few years of her leaving, then,’ he said. ‘He’s been dead a good ten years or so.’
‘She wrote a letter,’ I said. ‘It was in with the card. Josh asked me to read it to him.’
‘What did it say?’
‘That she never stopped thinking about him. That she screwed up and wants the chance to put things right but that she’d understand if it’s too late.’
Chris blew out and sat down next to me. ‘Has he said what he wants to do?’
‘He’s pretty mixed up. I suggested he take a few days to think about it. I suspect the guitar’s probably swung it, mind.’
Chris nodded. Put his head in his hands.
‘They might only meet up once,’ I said, rubbing his shoulder. ‘Maybe she simply needs to get it out of her system.’
‘No,’ said Chris, ‘that’s not Lydia’s style. All or nothing. That’s how it is with her.’
‘I still don’t think we can say no,’ I said. ‘He’s sixteen. We couldn’t stop him. And I’d rather not try if it’s going to push him away. We need to be here for him. Need to let him deal with it in his own way.’
‘It’s easy for you to say.’
I looked down at my hands. He was right, of course. I’d never met the woman until yesterday. I hadn’t been the one she walked out on. The one who’d brought Josh up single-handedly. Who’d made so many sacrifices that I didn’t know where to start.
‘No one’s taking him away from you,’ I said. ‘She can never compete with what you did for him. But at the end of the day she’s his mother. It’s natural that he’d want to meet her, even if it’s just out of curiosity.’
Chris shut his eyes and bowed his head. I put my arms around him. Pulled him in to me.
‘OK. I guess we’ve got no choice,’ he said eventually.
‘Thanks,’ I said, knowing that although he was doing his best to sound reasonable and rational, inside he must be feeling anything but. ‘Right. Well, I’d better get on with dinner,’ I said, squeezing his shoulder.
‘I’ll give Mum a ring,’ said Chris. ‘See what time she wants picking up.’
‘She said she’d come by bus.’
‘I know. But it’s started to rain. You know how slippery the cobbles get.’
* * *
By the time Chris arrived back with Barbara, Tom had gone home but Josh was still up in his room. Matilda had built some kind of set for
The Muppets
movie in the hallway and was busy perfecting her Miss Piggy voice.
‘Grandma!’ Matilda yelled as soon as she heard the key in the door.
I hurried out from the kitchen as she leapt at Barbara, almost knocking her off her feet.
‘Steady, please,’ I said, wiping my hands on my apron before taking my turn to give Barbara a hug.
Her cheeks were soft and downy. She looked like a grandmother should. She smelt like a grandmother should. She was everything a grandmother should be, to be honest. I wished I’d had one like her. Or a mother like her, for that matter.
‘Hello, love. Summat smells good. Just what I need to warm me up, turned a bit nippy out there, it has. Autumn’s proper on its way. I always say it starts on Josh’s birthday.We’ve hardly ever had his party in the garden. Once when he were a wee lad, I think. One of those Indian summers we don’t get any more.’
‘Well, the kitchen’s nice and toasty. You come and warm yourself up. Matilda, will you pop and tell Josh Grandma’s here, please?’
Barbara slipped off her sensible lace-ups and went through. I glanced at Chris. The darkness hung heavily over his